


Madam's Right Hand

by darkyoungforest



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action & Romance, F/F, Fantasy, Ghosts, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkyoungforest/pseuds/darkyoungforest
Summary: Stepha has been serving the most viscous vampire in the world for years. After all it was the only reason she became a vampire herself. And she loves it, she loved her job, she loves her Madam, she loves her life.Yet after an unexpected series of events she finds her allegiances change and becomes wrapped up with vampire hunters. What will she do now?P.S. This is very self-indulgent, I just wanted some wlw vampire romance.P.P.S. I also posted this on wattpad because idk where to post non-fandom work lmao
Kudos: 1





	1. A Fight In The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language so if something is wack please forgive me C:

Metal met metal. There was a horrible roar, sparks flew out, and Stepha's hand traitorously weakened under the relentless flurry of attacks. The enemy's sword almost grazed her - a sharp blade aimed right at her eye - but she managed to dash out at the last second. She had been fighting them for what felt like hours. Ten highly-skilled hunters against one formidable but desperately hungry vampire. Stepha had no time to think if she stood a chance, so she just kept on fighting.   
"Huh, this little whore is getting tired!" one of the hunters yelled. He was young, no more than 14 years old, but he fought like he hated her more than anyone else in the group. Did Stepha kill his parents? Harm his friends? She wouldn't have remembered even if pressed for answers. There were plenty of killed parents and harmed friends. He flung his sword at her. It flew through the air and hit a tree trunk behind her. Just a child, who never learned how to fight.  
"Keep on her, boys!" another man screamed and Stepha winced as a silver blade plunged itself deep into her right shoulder. She hissed and backed away to another tree.   
The ten of them ambushed her when she was returning from a parlay with a family of hunters. The family wanted a weaker vampire who had been ravaging a nearby village, Stepha wanted a sizable chest of gold and a promise that they would leave her and her Madam alone - not that they couldn't take them, but it was much easier to negotiate than to waste time and energy fighting commoners. Stepha hadn't eaten anything for three days now: normal food while tasty didn't fill her up and she decided against eating any humans or even animals in favour of smooth negotiations. The vampire who she caught in his own hut had tired her out, too. He was weak in all ways that mattered, but had an unbreakable will and never stopped fighting and thrashing as she drugged his bloodied body down the main street to the awe and terror of the villagers. Stepha was now starting to doubt if the whole parlay wasn't a careful ploy in order to lure her out. The hunters followed her from the village. At first only three of them and she didn't care if they attacked her or not, but by the time she got far away from the settlement and into their trap (where they poured a bucket of holy water on her, making her scream in agony) they became ten. She should have been more careful.   
The forest was filled with clangs, screams and dashes of red: Stepha's bright red shirt that got untucked and was now flapping violently behind her along with the long black jacket, sprays of blood both from her and the hunters, a few dead bodies of other vampires hidden in the bushes. They had been practising, waiting for her.   
"I thought all hunters were cowards," Stepha mocked as she blocked an arrow coming from somewhere to her right. Were there more of them in the forest? "Now I know that it's true. After all no brave man would ambush a woman and then," she raised her voice, "hide in the woods!"  
"Little whores shouldn't be opening their mouths!" the boy jumped up and plunged his knife where the blade was before. Stepha kicked him away and gripped her teeth as she pulled the knife out. Her blood was boiling - the knife had been covered with holy water. Wasn't it somewhat unfair that she was technically dead yet could still feel the pain?   
"The Duchess, the scariest, most vicious vampire of all," a hunter said as he circled around her, but there was laughter in his voice. "You're nothing more than Madam's little pet." He charged too. Stepha stepped away from his sword and kicked it out of his hand. She reached for him, but he managed to punch her in the face and dodge. A tie.   
"So what, you think you can kill me?" Stepha leaned on her sabre to steady herself. The curved sword wobbled but stood strong - Madam never presented her with bad gifts - and she rose just in time to block another strike. An arrow swished past her ear and it was only out of pure luck that it didn't hit her. "Mothers tell their children scary tales of me, I haunt the dreams of commoners and nobles alike, your fellow hunters bow to me and shower me with gifts just for a chance to stay alive, they beg for my help in matters that you yourself can't solve," she roared and tossed her sabre into her left hand, "and yet you, a group of tired men and quivering boys, you think you can kill me? Did your God teach you nothing?"   
Stepha charged a hunter and slashed his neck. Her already red shirt got much redder and the already blood-soaked grounds swallowed another spray of blood. This clearing will soon be swarming with ghosts. The hunter gulped for air, choking on his own blood. She tossed him into the woods. Their blood was filled with holy water just like their weapons. Not suitable to be her food.   
She turned towards the rest of the group. She must have looked terrifying: her hair dishevelled, her clothes ripped, crimson-and-black menace out for their lives. Stepha breathed heavily and rushed another hunter. He too fell to the ground, a gash on his chest. She stuck the boy's knife into his heart, ensuring the man wouldn't get up again.   
"Anyone else?" Stepha roared and spit blood on the ground. One of her against the eight of them. She was bleeding and tired, her silver inflicted wounds were not regenerating and the burns on her body she got when they ambushed her hurt too much to even stand, not mentioning fight. If any of them caught her off guard and plunged one of their holy weapons into her heart that would be it for her. Still, Stepha had to survive and go back to Madam's side. Otherwise what kind of right-hand would she be?   
"The mutt still barks," a hunter's voice trembled as he took a glance at the body of his friend. "Let's finish her off!"   
The swords and the sabre met over and over again. The person in the forest soon run out of arrows and joined in the fight. It was nine against one yet again. Stepha was fast, faster than any human. If she were too fight anyone else: a noble, a commoner, a whole battalion of soldiers - she would have won. But these humans were specifically trained to kill vampires, what more they had studied her. They knew how she moved and every trick up her sleeve she ever learned. They knew that she left her side open when she attacked, sacrificing security for speed and efficiency, unafraid of common weapons. They knew she had ghosts as her servants and guard and they'd set up crosses around the clearing: weak enough so that they wouldn't stop Stepha, but strong enough to keep any ghost out. They even ambushed her in the middle of the day, though to their dismay this one was a myth: she wasn't afraid of the sun, just preferred the calm of the night. She knew their tricks too, she had killed plenty of hunters after all, but these had an advantage of surprise.  
She dodged another sword. And another. And another. At this point finding an escape route and then coming back to murder their entire families was her best bet. Killing them right then and there was a luxury. Yet an opening never came. Even the little boy, who she so nonchalantly kicked away before, joined in leaving shallow but painful gashes on her body with his holy water soaked knife. He didn't seem to hesitate even for a second when he pulled that blade out of his friend's body.  
Stepha was getting tired. Then another sword came, this one from the one who seemed to be their leader. He was stronger than the rest and dressed in all white, crosses embroidered with silver thread on top of his jacket. Perhaps he was even one of those lone wolf, mercenary hunters. Stepha deflected his sword, but the strength of the hit pushed her hand away, leaving her completely open. She felt something cold enter her body right next to her heart and screamed as her blood boiled and burned. The people in the nearby village must have been startled by the howl that came in the middle of the day. She looked down to see an intricately carved hilt of a sword sticking out of her chest. Fear filled her, something she hasn't felt in a long while.   
"I'll pray to God that you never rest in peace, bitch!" the hunter pulled the sword out and Stepha fell to the ground.


	2. Before It All Changed

There was no invitation, no posters hung up on the walls of villages and cities, no person delivering Madam's will to those she found worthy. One night all the commoners lived in fear of monsters and ghosts, they hung crosses on their walls and bowed to the hunters that swore to protect them, and the next morning some of those commoners woke up with an invitation to become vampires burned deep into their brain. It was just like that, those who Madam deemed worthy, or interesting, or just entertaining suddenly knew the time and place and that if they showed up they would leave Madam's castle grounds as either her new right-hand or a dead body on a cart.  
Madam was always a mysterious figure. She lived in a castle whose precise location could never be determined and yet too many claimed to have seen it. She fed on humans (that much was known for sure) but with all the other vampires and their human copycats nobody knew who exactly were her victims. She was old, older than anyone remembered and infinitely terrifying with how much of an enigma she was.  
People knew the Madam's right-hand. A vampire who had served her for millennia and was, by some accounts, even scarier than her. He was a tale to be told in hushed voices, an image too horrifying to be ever imagined or depicted. He was there, and he was blood-thirsty, and he brought legions of hunters to his doorstep seeking his blood only to disappear forever. And then one day he was dead. A sword in his heart and no hunter ready to claim that victory as theirs, too afraid of what Madam might do to them. Everyone waited for months, praying that she wouldn't do anything at all and still silently hoping that she would, just to see how powerful she was. And then one day instead of a major battle, instead of revenge and bloodshed about fifty people woke up with instructions on how they might become Madam's next right-hand.  
Stepha was one of those fifty. She got up even before first light and already had no doubt in her mind. As soon as the morning broke and she could finally look around she scrounged up every last coin she could find around her shed - the owner let her live there in exchange for tending to his garden - and went into the Little Mountain, the town she had lived in for the past four years. It was already busy with people, but no one was talking about the sudden appearance of information in people's heads. Stepha wondered if she dreamed it and then decided that it didn't matter: if she was right she had another shot at life, if not she would just come back and die in a ditch somewhere. She thought about buying a sword, but decided against it - the blacksmith's was crawling with the hunters that were passing through - instead she bought some provisions, unsure of how long she might be stuck at Madam's castle, and bandages in case she got hurt. Then she took what was left of her money, paid almost all of it to an old and ugly brothel owner that everyone in the town referred to as Orchid (not for her charm but in spite of it) and went in.  
Stepha's last meal on earth. The prostitutes were welcoming, and sweet talking, and whispered nothings into her ears as silk sheets worn from use coiled around them. Skin on skin, heat of the breath on her lips and then the sweet taste of wine and chocolates on her tongue. Orchid knew how to please a patron. Soon Stepha was tired and her time in heaven was running out and she fell onto a prostitute's chest just to feel the warmth of the other, even if for the last time.  
"I'm not gonna be here tomorrow," Stepha said, her mind buzzing from the alcohol and the pleasures.  
"Oh and where is my lady going?" the prostitute wondered with her compassionate but clearly trained voice.  
"Away."  
"Is this departure somehow connected to my lady's sudden generosity?"  
Little Mountain was a small town. Stepha wasn't rich and everyone knew it. She bore her poverty with poise and never stooped down to begging on filthy street corners, but it was impossible to miss a young woman who would kill for work and always tried to claw her way into another place with just a little bit of money. Little Mountain was a small town and rumors spread fast. People wondered how a girl who worked so hard could still look so hungry and impoverished, wearing the same clothes day after day with the only change being the amount of patches on them. So for someone who never had money and tried her best at saving it all up paying for almost a whole day at a brothel was unheard of.  
"Do I know you?" Stepha tried to push herself up with her elbows.  
"No, I'm new in town," the prostitute gently guided Stepha back down and brought a ripe green grape to her lips.  
"God all of you are such gossips."  
"And yet, won't my lady indulge me?"  
"Ah fine, what the hell am I losing," Stepha laughed. "I got an invitation from a... powerful woman. She wants me to go and work for her, so I'm assuming I'll be making much more money in the near future."  
"Oh and what is this woman's name?" the prostitute brought another grape to Stepha.  
"She just asked me to call her Madam."  
The prostitute smiled.  
"What an interesting woman that is."  
"Is there an end to your questioning?"  
"My lady grows impatient," their lips met and Stepha was enveloped into the prostitute's smell: oranges, red wine, roses - and then they parted and Stepha left. First the brothel and soon Little Mountain itself.  
She trekked through snowed in forests and smelly bogs, avoiding the roads. She knew she wouldn't be safe there - they were full of bandits and men who would get ideas if they saw a woman alone - so she took the longer route. Little Mountain and Madam's castle were on the same mountain ridge which first gave Stepha hope, yet she soon realized how huge the space actually was. It took her three days. Those weren't hard. Yet when the nights came that's when the forests and the bogs took their toll. Stepha lay on a tiny mat full of holes, shivering from the cold and clutching a silver cross close to her chest. The ghosts and the spirits were either disinterested or actually terrified of the holy symbol and they stayed away. Still Stepha woke in the nights perhaps from the cold that only got worse as the darkness grew or perhaps because of wandering lights hidden behind the trees. The cold got deep into her bones and didn't seem to escape even when she dared to enter taverns for a warm drink that she payed for with the last few coins she found at the bottom of her travel satchel. The trip was horrible, but she pushed on. There was nothing but a smelly farm and village kids tossing rocks at her screeching "beggar" back in Little Mountain. There were only charred walls and horrible memories waiting for her back home. Madam's castle gave her hope of getting her life back, of learning to love it again.  
The castle came into view suddenly as if some giant child dropped a toy to the floor. It was smaller than what the stories talked of, they described it as blocking out the sun and casting shadows from it's tall towers all across the nearby land. In truth it was modest in size and closer to a house (however lavish) than to an actual castle. Despite this it's presence was overpowering: dark stone almost shone through the thick fog that enveloped it, windows stood empty and yet one could see movement behind them if they looked closely, something - Stepha had supposed those were gargoyles - overlooked the spanning garden below from the elevation of the main tower. And what a garden that was. Lavish green, full of flowers and intricate marble statues that stood taller than the hedges and blended with the fog around them. Some forests were smaller than that garden. All of it (the building, the hedges, the statues, the bleak wandering lights in the window) emerged from the fog so abruptly, that Stepha found herself stumbling backwards and tripping on something behind her.  
A hand caught her before she could hit the ground.  
"Hello, dear," a sweet female voice whispered into her ear. "Welcome to Flowering Castle."

***

"Now, I hope you don't hold it against me," Madam chuckled. "But you don't mind sharing your room with another human, do you? I live alone here so there are only so many guest rooms."  
"No-no, of course not," Stepha had to quicken her step as Madam gently but surely pushed her down the hallways of the Flowering Castle.  
"What about a man then?"  
"If Madam so wishes," Stepha wasn't thrilled about it, but she wasn't brave enough to oppose a vampire.  
Madam looked younger than Stepha expected. She had always assumed her to be a senior woman, but she would give Madam no more than 25. Stepha silently wondered if that was just the age at which she became a vampire or if the eternal life had granted her some insights into looking younger. Madam was elegant and surprisingly alive. The luscious skirts of her long dark purple dress tickled Stepha's exposed ankles that stuck our from beneath an old skirt she had long grown out of, Madam's hands were covered by long white gloves that prevented skin from touching skin and yet every time Madam reached for Stepha's hand she felt as if a current went through her entire body, Madam's slender neck was only made more elegant by a thin white ribbon that moved just slightly every time she spoke. Stepha has never seen this many riches on one person, but what drew her the most was Madam's face: she had striking gray eyes lighter than the white of her gloves, perfect make up and a rosiness to her face. Weren't vampires supposed to be dead?  
"Why are you so quiet, darling? Or are you already enamoured with me? You should wait, there will be time for it when you are my right hand," Madam smiled and Stepha could swear she saw the two telltale fangs.  
"Oh uhm," she blinked to get herself out of her trans and then blinked again, just to be sure. "Why is it called the Flowering Castle?"  
"Well because I came up with that name! Don't you like it?"  
"No! I-"  
Madam laughed again and this time Stepha could see the two fangs clearly. She was surprised to find herself relaxing at this discovery. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of the situation that bothered Stepha. However absurd there was still the chance of this Madam being fake, just a wealthy aristocrat - involved enough with the supernatural to figure out that invitation trick - bored out of her mind enough to make some lowlifes fight to the death. Fangs at least proved that this was indeed a vampire, though Stepha still questioned how real the reward was.  
"Don't worry. There is a reason, but you'll only see it from the garden. And since you're here for my little Game, you can be sure that you'll get to know that garden intimately."  
They walked further into the castle. The hallways twirled and spiralled and all looked the same: precious art against dark green walls all around. Stepha had no clew what floor she was on, but Madam seemed to move with purpose, assuring Stepha that she knew where they were heading. Soon they reached a door. It wasn't much different from all the other door they had passed before: same mahogany wood, same golden handles - but Madam stopped right in front of it.  
"Madam," Stepha felt that their trip was coming to a close. She needed to ask some questions.  
"Yes, dear?" she stepped back and finally let go of Stepha. The coldness of her hands somehow stayed.  
"I need to ask a question. Questions! May I-"  
"Go ahead."  
"How may I address you? Everyone calls you Madam, but what about your name. If there's a different title you'd prefer or something a bit more specific than Madam or-"  
"Quiet, child," Madam chuckled. "If you wanted to know my name you should've just asked outright. But you'll have to wait until you win my little game."  
"Oh, yes of course!" Stepha bowed and almost fell forward. The tiredness was getting to her.  
"Question-s. Right?"  
"Oh uhm," she looked up at the wall. There was a painting of a beautiful man. The plaque next to it said "Marius, Right Hand". Was he the one that had recently died. Or the one even before that? How many of this gamed had Madam held?  
"Out with it!" Madam glanced up at the painting too, but said nothing of it.  
"I hate to be rude but... How do I know you're the real Madam?"  
"Wouldn't it be terrible if you made it all the way here and I was just some con artist?" Madam snickered and then grew serious. "I don't have any proof for you. Nothing substantial enough to clear all your doubts. I suggest you use tonight to think about I and if in the end you don't believe I'm real or if that belief isn't enough I suggest your leave."  
"I'm sorry!"  
"No. I am not mad. I just think there's no reason to put your life and body on the line for someone you don't even think real. Now!" she clapped her hands and stepped back. "I have to welcome other guests. Please make yourself feel welcomed. Dinner will be served to your room later."  
Stepha looked at the door and when she glanced back Madam was already gone. The hallways that had already seemed quite threatening grew even smaller, suffocating her. The castle was almost infinite thanks to how confusing it was. She wasn't sure she would ever find her way back if she stepped away from the door even for a second. Stepha tried to search for some sign of live in these hallways, yet there was nothing: no creek of the wood under someone's boot, no faint laughter, none of the noises a populated house had. Shivers run up Stepha's spine. A part of her was sure she heard a growl from somewhere down the corridor and yet the castle still stood silent, no echoes. She quickly grabbed for the handle and run into the room, almost tripping on her skirts.  
"Wow, probably not a good idea to wear that tomorrow," the room's resident called out.  
He sat on the bed, polishing a hunting knife. He was blond, and well-dressed and that childish plumpness still hasn't left his face.  
"A kid!" Stepha gasped, seeing this young boy prepare for what she could only assume would end up being a slaughter.  
"Hey, I'm already 17!" he frowned and hopped off the bed. He was almost a head higher than Stepha and his hair was brushing along the low ceiling of the room. Intimidating... but still a child.  
"Fuck, sorry." Stepha tried to put all her thought back together. "I don't know what came over me, you just looked so young. I'm Stepha."  
"Joseph," he grabbed her hand (making Stepha feel bad for not raising it for a handshake) and gripped it tightly. "You seem nice, lady, and I feel bad saying this. But I'm here to win."


	3. Coming Back To Life

Stepha opened her eyes. The lucid dream (or memory) that came with the dying slowly faded away and got replaced by a sharp persistent pain in her chest and a burning sensation in her entire body. She reached up to where the killing blow was supposed to be and found it bandaged from her neck down to her stomach. She blinked - once because she couldn't believe she was opening her eyes at all, a second time because the space around her refused to assemble into a coherent picture instead choosing to float around in blurred shapes - and looked around. She was in a room, though by the wooden walls and the lack of any sort of decorations Stepha assumed it was someone's rarely used hunting cabin. Thick yellow light was shining in through a murky window, distorting and falling in peculiar ornaments onto a wall. Sun so low: sunrise or sunset?  
Stepha's eyes stopped on the only thing in this cabin that was moving. A young man was standing at the table and working on something. His short dark curly hair was illuminated in the low sun and turned honey-coloured. Stepha's hand reached up to her bandaged chest again: was he the one that saved her. And if so why? A simple human confused about her real nature wouldn't know what to do in order to save her, another vampire wouldn't lift a finger for her and those humans that would recognize her for who she is, well, they wanted her dead more than anything else in the world. Stepha wondered if she should say something. She was now in debt to this man and Madam was always insisting on paying back what is owed.  
The man stopped moving and Stepha's eyes darted back to him. He turned around. Stepha's initial assessment was wrong.  
"Oh you're finally awake!" the woman said and walked to Stepha.  
Her haircut and choppy movements made her look like like a man, but now Stepha could see that in front of her was a young woman. She had kind brown eyes, makeup that must have taken her hours smudged around her eyes - the choice of colours compliment her dark skin extremely well, but the smudges made her look like she hadn't slept in days - she was wearing a white and blue dress though from the back Stepha took it for a tunic, her jewellery... No!  
Stepha tried to hop off the bed, to run away, to kill herself before anything worse happened to her. The woman snapped her fingers and something invisible grabbed Stepha's arms.  
"Please, don't move," an intricate silver cross hung from the woman's neck and smaller crosses were embroidered with white thread into her white tunic.  
"Priestess..." Stepha growled through her teeth. "What do you want from me?"  
"Stop moving!" she plopped down on a small wooden chair and pushed that small cup she was holding to Stepha's lips. "And drink."  
"You think I'm stupid or what?" Stepha tried to move away but a healthy priestess would always be stronger than a close-to-death vampire.  
"I didn't until now. If not for me your cold body would still be laying in that forest, getting picked on by bored kids and hungry animals. You really think I spent all night up, taking care of you, pacing around this room, waiting for you heart to finally start beating - and let me tell you that isn't that easy to spot with how slow your almost-dead heart beats! -did all that just to kill you first thing in the morning?"  
It was sunrise after all.  
"If not kill me than what?" Stepha scoffed. "Your kind hunts my kind. I don't trust you."  
"And your kind hunts all of humanity. Now drink," the woman pushed the cup even closer to Stepha's lips and thick liquid flowed into her mouth, despite her protests. As soon as she swallowed her entire body felt like it caught on fire. It burned in every arm, every finger, every piece of skin, deep inside and on the outside. Stepha wanted to scream but her tongue was on fire too, even her brain was burning up making it impossible for her to think of anything else. She had never felt anything as bad as that. Never before. Tears streamed down her face and she clutched the sheets on the bed in a death grip.  
And then the sensation was gone as fast as it started.  
"What the fuck was that!? Why?" Stepha cried, uncaring about appearances. And they called her a monster! She would never put others through something like that.  
"Highly concentrated vampire blood. Burned all the holy water and silver out of your system before it could burn you."  
"What?"  
"Goddammit. You'd think immortal being like you would use their infinite time to learn something. You had silver and holy water in your blood after that fight," she was almost spelling out these sentences. "They were slowly burning you. I made you drink concentrated vampire blood," the woman stood up and walked back to the table she was working at before. "It got quickly absorbed into your body and instead of burning you that silver burned the concentrate and disintegrated in the process."  
"I- I drank vampire blood?"  
"Yes, I also cleaned all your other wounds with it. Especially that nasty one in your chest - good thing I found you as soon as I did. Now don't start a scene. I know you've killed plenty of your own."  
Stepha wasn't even thinking of that.  
"So, you did save me?" she tried to stand up but the invisible force was still holding her down and she crashed back onto the bed. "Fuck-"  
The woman snapped her fingers again. The force disappeared. Stepha thought she could see two tiny translucent children faze through the wall.  
"You're not the only one who can get the ghosts on your side," the woman followed Stepha's gaze but quickly went back to... chopping vegetables? "And yes, I did save you."  
"Why?" Stepha finally stood up. Her naked feet touched the ground and she quickly realized she was wearing nothing but her pants and the bandage on her chest (if that could be considered clothes).  
"Your stuff is on that chair," the woman pointed at a neatly folded tower of clothes with a knife and went back to what she was doing. "I cleaned it and covered up the holes with some patches. It's fine for now, but I suppose you should think about getting new jacket and shirt."  
"Why'd you save me?" Stepha traced the careful stitches on her clothing. The woman was selling herself short, Stepha could barely tell it was mended at all. Except in placed where the woman seemed to have forgotten what she was doing and embroidered flowers, a bird and intricate ornaments. Stepha kind of wished she would have done that everywhere.  
The woman slid all of the veggies into a pot, poured some water and then placed it into an oven. The fire had been roaring there for a while, but Stepha only noticed when the woman placed her pot down. Then she turned around and walked to Stepha.  
"I am Vai of the Emerald Village," a bow too quick to call it actually humble. "You had saved my father Hester, and so I saved you. We are even now." Did she practice this before?  
Stepha took a step back. She was still fiddling with her newly-mended clothes when Vai came over.  
"How'd you know it was me?"  
"My father told me."  
"No, I figured that out," Stepha was still trying trying to remember if she ever met a Hester. "Back then, in the forest."  
"They had invited every hunter and every priestess from the nearby villages to help them. Charged in here" ("Where's here?" Stepha chimed in.) "Emerald Village. Come on, keep up. Charged in here and started asking around. I don't think anyone came other that those they already had. You do have quite a reputation. When they came back bragging about how they killed you I was - how to say this - surprised, so I sneaked into that forest. And found you. Didn't take long that the vampire dressed in red and black, with a striking silver sabre," Vai pointed towards a corner. Stepha rushed over there and picked up her sword and cradled it as it was a baby, "was the ruthless," her voice quivered at the word as she watched Stepha gently stroke her sword. Stepha noticed and quickly tied it back to her belt, focusing back on the story, "frightening and beautiful," Stepha cocked an eyebrow and watched Vai smile mischievously, "Duchess Stepha."  
"Why not just leave me there to die?"  
"And risk Madam coming back for my father? Pay of your debts!" she shook her fist, "And all that."  
"And you're saying the hunters just left me out there? With my sword and all?"  
"Oh well yes. But they had a good reason."  
"And that was?" Stepha finally slipped her shirt and jacket on and Vai faked a very theatrical disappointment. Were priestess even allowed to be such flirts?  
"Your dear friend Joseph. He broke through their barriers and chased them away. They were already pretty beaten up and probably weren't in the mood for dealing with his army of ghosts."  
"Where's he now?"  
"Outside. Those kids you saw were keeping him company. You have a very loyal dog, Duchess. Especially for a ghost."  
"Don't call him that."  
"A ghost?"  
"A dog."  
"Right," she folded her hands. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."  
Stepha stood up and tightly tied the laces on her long boots. It was a long road from Emerald Village back to her own manor and she didn't feel strong enough to risk provoking the same hunters that had attacked her the night before.  
"Stay," Vai called out from her chair as Stepha was double checking that all of her things were in order. "At least for the stew," a glance towards the oven. "I promise you'll like it."  
"I don't eat food."  
"You don't need food," she stood up and walked to the table, "but I know enough about you to know you do enjoy a good feast once in a while."  
"You've really done your research on me."  
"Who hasn't?" Vai moved the books and the assortment of alchemical ingredients aside and placed down two crude clay plates. "Come on, we're immortal," here Stepha raised an eyebrow. "What are a few hours to us?"  
"I'd think you'd want me gone as soon as possible."  
"Why so?"  
"Really!?"  
"Well, what can I say? Perhaps I grew to like you. You do mumble adorably in your sleep."  
"I- what?" Stepha could feel her cheeks redden and prayed that what little blood her almost-dead heart was pumping through her veins wasn't enough for Vai to notice.  
Vai laughed and poured the stew into the bowls.  
"That was fast," Stepha glanced into the oven and noticed that the flame was an unusual way-too-orange colour.  
"You should thank God for that."  
"Like he'll ever do anything for me."  
"Want to eat outside?" Vai carried the two bowl and pushed the door open with her foot.  
"STEPHA!" the chilly morning air was pierced with a loud scream. "You're ok!"  
A ghostly form charged her as soon as she stepped out of the tiny shack. She almost toppled over from the push, but Joseph steadied them both.  
"Evidently so!" she chuckled. "Did you wait here all night?"  
"I watched you go down from behind the trees. I'm sorry I couldn't get through at first and by the time I could it was too late, I-"  
"Stop spiralling! I'm all good, see?" she twirled demonstratively.  
He said nothing just laughed and sat down on the porch.  
"There are chairs, ghost," Vai placed down the stew on the table and sat down herself. "Sorry for not offering you any, but I believe you can't even taste it."  
"You've already done enough," Joseph smiled and nodded in recognition. "If you're ever in need let me know and I'll come help."  
"Oh no-no-no, ghost. I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart," a wave of the hand, "or anything like that. Just paying off my debts."  
While Vai and Joseph were trading pleasantries Stepha sat down too and pulled the bowl closer to herself. She could now see that this was definitely a hunting cabin. There was nothing around them but the forest and about a dozen of ghosts (how close were they to the Emerald Village's cemetery?) who were carefully peaking their heads from behind the trees. What an unusual sight: a vampire and a priestess eating homemade stew together.  
"You're not going home?" Joseph finally noticed Stepha who was enthusiastically downing the stew that did turn out to be extremely good.  
"I definitely am!" why would she ever stay in this forest? "This food is just too good to pass up."  
"Oh..."  
"You don't have to stay if that's what making you worried."  
Joseph was glancing nervously at all of the crosses around the cabin and the two ghost children that passed through the barrier carefree. Perhaps he didn't want to know just how exactly Vai altered their nature to make them like that.  
"Thank you! I'll go tell Madam you're alive!" he dissolved into thin air.  
"Told you the stew was great!" Vai chimed back in.  
"Vai?" Stepha pushed the empty bowl away from herself. She stayed back for more than just food.  
"Yes?"  
"You're immortal?"  
"Oh well you see. When you're a hunter or a priestess there's this ritual that-"  
"No-no, I know all that. God-Given Immortality. A ritual that takes three days and apparently feels like torture, those who survive become immortal just like us. Or almost like us. You don't heal like we do, just don't age."  
"You got it right. What is it that you want to know then?"  
"You're young."  
"Hey I'm probably around your age? I'm 64."  
Stepha was 71, Vai wasn't that far off.  
"Not that. Physically."  
"Again. I'm probably around your age."  
"Alright fuck it. You don't look like someone they'd give immortality to."  
"What does that even mean?"  
"You're young and thus inexperienced. You're witty and charming." ("Is that so?") "You're a flirt!" Stepha thew her hands up in exasperation. "I am yet to hear you recite a single prayer or chant."  
"Ah, I see what you're saying. I'm not wise enough for God-Given Immortality."  
"You're like none of the immortal ones I've met before."  
"I guess you could say I'm a special case."  
"What? Exceptionally smart?"  
"No, more like exceptionally unlucky. Look, can we not go into this? I'm not asking what made you play Madam's Game."  
"Sorry," Stepha knew she touched a sore spot. Just who was this woman? What had happened to her?  
"Ha! I never thought I'd hear the Duchess apologize," Vai leaned back in her chair with a giant grin on her face.  
"You think I thought I'd be saved by a priestess?"  
They stayed on that porch and talked until the sun hid behind the tall trees and long shadows enveloped the tiny little cabin. They talked about their everyday life. Vai complained how she could never be a hunter because she is a woman and thus was resigned to a life of calming ghosts down with singing and alchemical solutions. She didn't mind the job, but the thrill of the fight fascinated her. Stepha told her of the last vampire she caught just right before the ambush. Vai looked happy until Stepha mentioned the humans that vampire had killed. Stepha decided not to mention all of the humans she had eaten before.  
There was no reason for Stepha to stay at that table and talk to a priestess (!) and yet she didn't feel like going anywhere. She hadn't felt this free in a while. There were things she didn't want Madam to know, Joseph wasn't a good listener and she had precious few who she could talk to at all. All the ghosts that helped her out with the estate did it out of some sort of ingrained reverence and gratefulness for keeping them safe, and other vampires didn't like talking to those who hunted their own. Vai talked to her out of her own volition. Her debt was repaid (a debt Stepha didn't even think about) and yet she was still more than happy to spend her time next to Stepha.  
So they talked and then those shadows came and Stepha knew she had to leave.  
"That was some really good stew."  
"Alright," Vai smiled. "Let me pack some for you then."  
She went back into the house and came back out with a sealed pot.  
"Heat it up when you're home."  
"Thank you."  
Vai leaned on the side of the cabin, "I should probably say something along the lines of," a fake angry grimace on her face, "pray our paths never cross again, vampire. But I don't want to do that," she shrugged.  
"Should I pray so that our paths do cross again?"  
"Yeah, that sounds right. I'll do that too. After all you did say God has never done anything for you."  
They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then Stepha disappeared into the forest, carefully clutching the pot with the stew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break from this one for many reasons. Might come back later! <3


End file.
